


A Void of Light

by SadieHerondale



Series: Broken Prisms [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison Doesn't Exist, Alpha Derek, Angst, Christmas, Derek is Not a Failwolf, Derek is a Good Boyfriend, Derek is a Softie, Established Relationship, Everyone Is Alive, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Mental Instability, Nostalgia, Post-Nogitsune, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Scott hate, Sorry Not Sorry, Stiles Has Issues, Stiles Has Nightmares, Stiles Has Panic Attacks, Stiles Stilinski Has Low Self-Esteem, Stiles Stilinski Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Stiles Stilinski Has Scars, there's not that much calm down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-06 22:05:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5432453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadieHerondale/pseuds/SadieHerondale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Please. Please, Stiles, come back to me." Pause. "Turn the goddamn lights on, Scott! For fuck's sake, he's terrified!" It's Derek. He's not in Eichen. Then the restraints are gone and suddenly the room is flooded with a flickering, watery light. It stings Stiles' eyes until they adjust. He almost misses the pain when they do.</p><p>"Off," he mutters. He can barely hear himself, he's so quiet.</p><p>Apparently Derek has the same problem. "What was that?" he asks gently.</p><p><em>"Turn it off!"</em> Stiles shrieks. The bulb is flickering, dying, casting gruesome shadows on everything in sight and Stiles can't. He can't look at anything, can't stand the sight of the shadows on Derek's face. <em>"Off! Off, off, off, off..."</em></p><p>*********READ THE FIRST THREE INSTALLMENTS FIRST. Sorry. It might not make a lot of sense otherwise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Void of Light

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of an emotional rollercoaster and Derek is a little ooc. FYI. Not in the tags because there isn't that much dialogue so. Enjoy, comments make my day!

_"A shadow! A shadow! Please, I told you the answer already. You said you wouldn't hurt them!" Stiles wails, watching the bandaged thing use his body to drive a sword into his best friend. "Please!"_

_"We are a liar, Stiles," it hisses. "We should know that by now. All We ever do is lie."_

_Stiles falls to his knees, a prisoner in his own mind "Stop," he whimpers, "Please."_

**~oOo~**

Stiles wakes up for real, screaming. He sits bolt upright, only to find his hands restrained. He's back in Eichen. The room is dark, the straps are tight, it's too cold, someone is talking to him--

Wait. Someone is _talking_ to him?

Stiles stills. Listens.

"Please. Please, Stiles, come back to me." Pause. "Turn the goddamn lights on, Scott! For fuck's sake, he's terrified!" It's Derek. He's not in Eichen. Then the restraints are gone and suddenly the room is flooded with a flickering, watery light. It stings Stiles' eyes until they adjust. He almost misses the pain when they do.

"Off," he mutters. He can barely hear himself, he's so quiet.

Apparently Derek has the same problem. "What was that?" he asks gently.

 _"Turn it off!"_ Stiles shrieks. The bulb is flickering, dying, casting gruesome shadows on everything in sight and Stiles can't. He can't look at anything, can't stand the sight of the shadows on Derek's face. _"Off! Off, off, off, off..."_

Derek snaps at someone and the room is dark again. Stiles slumps, collapsing on the table he was bound to. Derek is murmuring something soothingly into Stiles' ear, but it gets lost. He can't comprehend the words; in his terror, they're just noises-- patterns of vowels and consonants melding together into and incomprehensible mush of sound until

"--shadows," Derek murmurs. "Just shadows, don't worry. You're safe now."

Stiles wails.

He's not safe. They're not just shadows. There's no such thing as just shadows for him, not anymore. No such thing as safe. Every shadow, every flicker of light is a taunt, is a lie, is a broken promise that They made. He wrenches himself away from Derek. After everything They did, They don't deserve to be held by Their soulmate. We are not safe for him. Everything We do is dangerous to him. We can hurt him in ways We never even dreamed of, just by existing. We can't let that happen.

He doesn't get far. Scott is waiting, blocking the door ( _Deaton's office?_ Stiles wonders numbly). He abandons that when Stiles crashes into him, instead opting to wrap his arms around the boy as he sobs. They cannot get past Scott, even if They wanted to; Scott is the first in a thousand years to defeat Them. So instead, Stiles lets Scott hold Them. Lets Themself feel that no, he is alive. Lets Themself because They detest Scott. They loath his ineptitude and complete oblivion to Their pain even as Stiles tries to pretend that he doesn't mind.

They can feel Derek's eyes staring at the scene, can feel his hurt and rejection through the Soul Bond. They don't notice They're speaking until Scott's fingers card through Stiles' hair comfortingly.

"We're sorry. We're sorry. I didn't want to. We're sorry."

And even Stiles can't tell if it's him or Them that's in control anymore.

**~oOo~**

It's been a few weeks since Stiles woke up. The first few days were hell: he flinched at every little noise and had at least three or four panic attacks a week, refused to eat and couldn't sleep for more than a few minutes at a time because as soon as he hit REM, the dreams started and when the dreams started he became Them and nothing can bring Them down from that confusion before They are ready except Derek.

Derek, who Stiles doesn't deserve.

Derek, who somehow manages to get into his room every night despite the mountain ash barrier he puts up in his room (Stiles suspects that Deaton has some involvement) and brings Them back from the brink of insanity. Who changed like a flipped switch and went from forgetting that Stiles' problems existed to being the only person who can get him through the night without his razor. From being loving but oblivious, to supportive and a little _too_ astute.

It's helping. There's no doubt about that. The problem is that They don't deserve help. And Stiles is more than a little concerned as to what his condition is doing to Derek. Their wellbeing doesn't matter, not in the grand scheme of everything They've done, but Derek is more important than anything else that could come Their way and he has this awful habit of not taking care of himself.

So Stiles tries. And Derek won't let him. He won't let Stiles lie anymore and while he doesn't demand the truth, he won't allow him to pretend They're fine. Derek is there on those rare nights when Stiles falls asleep, when he can't stay awake anymore no matter how he tries. He's there when They wake up screaming from the horrifyingly bittersweet memory of Scott's blood on Their hands, of the Their sadistically brilliant (and thankfully never carried out) plans to kill Erica and Boyd. He's there during pack nights, when Stiles pretends everything is fine and then suddenly everything is not but They can pretend that it is except that They can't because Derek is so in tune with the scent of Stiles' panic that They can't hide behind smiles anymore. And worst of all, he's there on the good days, on the days where Stiles doesn't have to fake a smile or wonder if he is him or Them or stave off a panic attack. 

The thing is, Derek  _knows._  

He knows when to push and when to step back; when Stiles can bend and when They are about to break; when someone says something that triggers a panic attack or a bout of depression. He knows when Stiles is actually having a good day and he knows when They are just pretending to be him. He even seems to know why Stiles sticks close to Scott (despite the entire situation, Stiles can tell that it amuses him to some extent). 

For example. Stiles is awake on Christmas Eve-- all night. He watches the numbers on his clock tick time away without suspense; it's not as though he's really imbued with the Christmas spirit. No, he's been imbued with enough spirit to last a lifetime. When the numbers change and 12:00 glows red in the darkness of his room, he stands up. Rummages under the mattress for a moment. Pulls out a well-loved leatherbound book, the fading silver script still visible: 

_**Genim S. Stilinski** _

He's glad that the pack made such a big deal out of Christmas, or he most likely would have forgotten altogether.  _Wouldn't that be the fucking cherry on top?_ he thinks bitterly. He shakes his head to clear it before opening the journal and meticulously peeling off every. Last. Post-it. They were a red string, and that chapter of Their life is over now. He has a letter to write.

**~oOo~**

_December 25, 2014_

_Merry Christmas Mom. Or maybe not. It's midnight now, I'm not sure how the rest of the day is going to go. No, I haven't been on another Aderall binge, I promise. I don't even seem to need it these days. There's nothing to really focus on besides getting better. At least that's what Derek says._

_You never told me that love hurts, by the way._

_Here's the thing. Derek has been so great through everything, putting up with my problems and trying to make it all a little more bearable. I'm falling in love with him a little more every single day and I know that's the cheesiest line in existence but it's true. Everything he does makes me feel... I don't know. I haven't felt this way since you were around. ~~I'm not sure I deserve to feel like this anymore, especially after what We did.~~  _

~~_It's hard to believe he can still love me after everything We did._ ~~

~~_We wanted to **hurt**  him, Mom. We wanted to make him scream as We carved the pack to pieces in front of him. How could he still love me after that?  
_ ~~

_I'm butchering this. Maybe I'll be a little better about this later. Suffice to say that my heart is being ripped apart from the inside out and all I can do is try to get better. I'm trying, Mom. I'm trying and Derek is helping and Dad is okay for now. I'll drop by to talk to you later today._

_Merry Christmas, wherever you are. I love you._

_Chłopczyk_

**~oOo~**

 

When Stiles opens the front door a few hours later, he's met with an awkward werewolf with a bouquet of red tulips.  _How did he know?_ Stiles thinks.

"I thought you, um, might want some company?" And holy mother of god, Derek sounds unsure of himself for the first time ever so Stiles takes his hand and drags him to the Jeep.

He drives to the cemetery and brings Derek with him. No one has ever come with him all the way; Melissa waits by the gate, usually. But Derek comes.

Claudia Jane Stilinski's headstone is grey marble. When Stiles holds his soulmate's hand, he can see subtle shades of violet, much like his mother's eyes. The grass around it is well-kept and weedless, courtesy of Isaac. There's condensation on the front, beading into opalescent tears that refuse to fall. Stiles wipes it off with his hand. 

He lays down a blanket in front of the headstone with practiced precision and sits down. _It's a good day,_ he thinks. _I'm me, not Us._  He sets the flowers down gently in front of the headstone, not like an offering, but like a Christmas gift. When he sits, he leaves enough space for Derek but otherwise doesn't acknowledge his existence because he's already talking, speaking to his mother as if she's here.

"Hi Mom," he says softly. "There's something I think you should know. There's a person in my life, and when I first met him, I don't think I realized how much he would end up meaning to me. Now he's my everything and everything else is just... everything else, you know? He's brave and loyal and has the weirdest sense of humor every. He's a little grumpy on the outside, but he's really a total softie when it comes down to it. He cares too much. And he loves me even though I can't love myself and that's something I didn't think I'd ever have again. I don't have to pretend around him, Mom. I've been pretending for so long. Pretending to be okay, pretending to laugh, to care, and I don't have to pretend. When I'm with him, it's real."

Stiles takes a deep breath. "Mom, I'd like you to meet Derek Hale. He's an asshole and he frustrates the living hell out of me. He's obnoxious and broken in ways I didn't even know were possible. I didn't expect to love him, but I'm so terrified of losing him it makes me sick because he's holding my heart in his hands and he doesn't even know it. I hope you love him as much as I do."

It's quiet for a long moment. Then Derek is wrapping his arms around Stiles. "I love you too, you know."

 _I know. That's what scares me,_ Stiles thinks.  _I'm afraid that for whatever reason you're falling for me and I won't be strong enough to catch you._

He sighs quietly into Derek's shoulder. It's hard, having him here-- this is Stiles' place. This is only his, and has been for years, and suddenly it's  _not._ He thinks it's okay, though. He can trust Derek, can believe that he won't intentionally hurt him. He's not at all sure that Derek can trust him, but that's a whole other matter entirely.

Right now, Stiles is himself. He's Genim Stiles Stilinski, and he's sitting with two of the people he loves most in the world and They're definitely broken but for the first time in years, he actually believes he can be fixed. Not immediately, not easily, not likely. But possibly. Because it's Christmas dammit, and he wants something to go right. He knows that there are people who love him and he knows that he still has secrets and scars to reveal, but he's taken a first step. It took him three weeks, but he's taken the first step toward getting through the trauma the Nogitsune left on him. He isn't happy. He isn't healed. He isn't okay. He doesn't know abut tomorrow or how it's going to go.

Just for today, he's better.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, it's not over. More to come, I just felt all angsty and then it turned into Christmas fluff, oops. Don't know how that happened. The Nogitsune trauma is far from over, though. FAR from over. Bc you don't bounce back from something like that.
> 
> Come find me on tumblr @look-im-just-trash


End file.
